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Dark Depths of Oceans-
On the surface, she was bright. She shimmered like the reflecting rays of the sun off the moving mirrors of the ocean's rippling waves. But the dark was leagues deeper than the surface.
I knew where I would find my sister. I knew I would see her pain, the only thing she could control. And I knew I would see her seeping saltwater veins that she could not. My vision was displayed more clearly than the water spraying over my back. It was a vividly painted picture with warm red and cold eyes. I feared her death. Off. Out. Dried. Clothed. With each step down the stairs, toward the locked bathroom door trying to keep love out and pain in, the sound of sobbing strengthened. My vision had one flaw. Death was wrong.
My stomach churned like I drank too many cocktails of two-parts sadness and one-part relief. "Remy!", I spoke firmly chased by a softer rhetorical question. "Does it hurt?" The lock clicked open. The door followed suit. There she lay with the kitchen knife keeping her company. Tears descended to join the results of the night on the white, stained tile. I lowered myself to join the rest, knowing nothing but to embrace her. For her comfort and mine, I embraced her. For celebration of life, I embraced her. For LOVE LARGER THAN PAIN and LIGHT GREATER THAN DARK , I embraced her.
On the surface, she is bright. She shimmers like the reflecting rays of the sun off the moving mirrors of the ocean's rippling waves. I love her like the ocean.